Behind the Mask
by x tree 09
Summary: Marcus Flint reflects back on different aspects of his life. Please review.
1. Who Am I?

**Disclamer:** Sadly, I do not own Flint, although I wish I can

Who am I? I never seem to have a decent answer for that. Well, I'm Marcus Flint, of course. I know that much, but other than that, looking any deeper, I get lost. A Slytherin, which I am, or as I mostly hear it, a bloody cunning snake. Both terms I can agree too, there isn't much to deny about it. I've paced the halls of the dungeons countless times, flew around the pitch perhaps double the amount, each time pondering myself.

What in the hell am I expected to do in my life? I can barely keep a decent friendship, much less a relationship. A nagging voice in my head clearly reminds me of why. "It's because of your parents." It always tells me that, constantly reminding me off the lack of a childhood I had. Also the lack of parental even in my teen years. Countless days I have spent alone, barely catching a glimpse of either of my parents, our house-elf did the duty of raising me. The bloody elf didn't help much; he was a cold-hearted of a thing also. He would disappear for hours, leaving me to be sitting in my room alone, of course I grew on to quidditch, with no damn company, my broom was the only thing I ever had. Still, that little shit never showed a kind tone, I can still recall his slimy voice croaking out, Master Flint.

What is it about my first name, no one calls me it. Always I hear, "Oi! Flint" or even "Watch were your going Flint." There was one, yes, one person who called me Marcus, but that was in secret, no one knew about it, or even that we spoke to each other civilly; it was for the best that no one knew. Perhaps their scared, no, there isn't any question about it, their scared, scared of the damned Slytherin Captain. I know my looks are not that great, but now really?

Shit, I know I have crooked teeth, I've been told plenty of times, and yeah, I have looked into a mirror. Sure, I resemble a troll, it's not my fucking fault one of my great grandparents fucked one, my family's fucking screwed up, what do they expect of me? Well, then again, I'm the lucky family member that inherits those cursed genes. Always me, Marcus Flint, the lucky little boy. The little boy, who repeats his god damn 7th year at Hogwarts.

Maybe though, perhaps. I shouldn't get my hopes up to high. The one thing my parents have taught me, I don't deserve shit. Yes that they taught me, and quite well too, but well maybe this year is different, maybe. I can walk into the Slytherin common room and hear, "Hey Marcus, come sit here, did you read the daily prophet?" or maybe ask me about music, shit I listen to the weird sisters, so why can't I talk about them. No...no, I'm Marcus Flint, the quidditch captain. That's the only way I can be portrayed, the only way people will speak to me, about the cursed sport. Well you never know, this year, when I get on the train, someone will ask, "hey how was your summer?" Why in the fucking hell am I telling myself this, of course that won't happen, I don't deserve friends, I don't deserve shit.

**That's who I am, Marcus Flint, the rejected, troll looking freak.**


	2. Don't Take Me As Foolish

**Disclaimer: I Dont own Marcus Flint, or control his thoughts...sadly.**

I'm not foolish; I know very well that I am considered to be hideous. I haven't ever tried to hide it; I grew accustomed to my looks. Mind you, half the people in the school have no idea how many hours I wasted away in front of mirrors, hoping to myself that maybe all these past years have just been a bad nightmare and perhaps I really am not that bad looking. With my luck, I seem to be having spent all those nights wishing on another person star, still after those 17 years I'm a hideous troll.

Frankly, no one seems to understand how typical and annoying their comments are to me. I've heard the whole dental charm comment so many times, that my fist isn't really into it anymore when I punch them. Also the whole, Blimey Flint really is a troll, how many times to I have to go over it, I have fucking troll blood in me! Now that I pummel people, my heart isn't behind it anymore, it's just a pattern that I fallen into.

Lying down in my bed at nights, there always have been those memories that always crept upon me, reminding me of my childhood. How many children hitting the age of 8, had to hear their mother telling them that they are a disgrace to the family. How many of them had spent countless days alone at home, since their mother was to embarrassed to have given birth to a thing like yourself? How many of them had their birthdays forgotten, and never celebrated a decent Christmas? How many have to go through all that just because they were considered too hideous to be a pure-blood?

I hoped that being sorted into Slytherin will manage to please my parents, but all I got on top of that was a threat of my father telling me I had to make the Slytherin Quidditch team, since nothing else was going for me. Of course, I worked hard on that, I made the team, and did I ever receive a congratulations from either of them? No of course not, I was just foolish thinking that it may happen. Without a second thought, I worked hard to still please those two imbeciles, and landed myself as the captain of the team. My mother's response to that was one in which no son should hear their parent say. "Great now all the attention will be on our hideous being of a son." I tried to stop caring from that moment on, I just couldn't seem to let go.

Don't take me for foolish. I know exactly how I look. I won't let anyone else bring me down about it.

**Authors Note: I am willing to take request on what you would like Marcus to focus on in his thoughts for upcoming chapters =]**


	3. Another Birthday

Birthdays. What a pathetic excuses to celebrate. Everyone is used to the term meaning a day of happiness, where they receive gifts upon gifts and being surrounded by family that actually puts an effort forth for their child. For Me? Birthdays never seemed to be any different from any other day, like the day before and the day that is to come, I would sit alone in my room, staring off into the dark ceiling, as the silence would surround me. I would get a little nudge in my stomach when I hear creaking on the stairs, giving myself hope that it may be one of my parents remembering that on this day 16 years ago they gave birth to their only heir. Every single time, I would hear the footsteps walk right past my room, sometimes one of their faces would appear sticking in to sneer at me and tell me "Get of your lazy arse and actually do something useful with your time." I guess I have managed to numb myself against them, not that they mind, they created in their mind the perfect son, one that sends fear into others, and doesn't even need them to pay attention to him.

Maybe if I was born during the school year, things may have been a bit different. Although I highly doubt that would have happened. I spent the last 5 years of my education with a group of Slytherins, that if you had nothing to offer that day, you were placed to the back of their mind. So on my birthday, of which they find no reason to use my strength or brutality to their advantage today, spend it alone without a notion from any of them. Not that I would expect anything different from them, I am the same way, but to look over at Wood when he wakes up on his cursed day of birth and makes his way to his Gryffindor table, vomit and hatred seem to rise up on me. Why does he get to be appreciated when all that boy is, is just a bloody wanker? But of course he is considered the pretty boy of the Gryffindor house, and also Mr. Great Quidditch Keeper. And what am I? To the students at Hogwarts and to my parents, I am worth less then anyone's attention… even on my birthday.

I Guess I should just learn to accept it, and move on with everything else in my life. Like many of the things I have learned while growing up, this isn't ever going to change, and little do I deserve for it to be any different.

**Authors Note:**I dont know why, but I have to make Marcus seem like a troubled child, I cant admit that he is evil only cause he is a slytherin, that wont work for me :]

Well If you have anything you want me to write about on the next chapter just leave it in the reviews!


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